High is the Moon Tonight
by The Golden Hierophant
Summary: There was a point in life where childhood dreams and fantasy died, and real life began. You went to college, graduated, got a job, got married, and had kids, but sometime in the future there’d come a day where those dreams would want you back.
1. Little Alice Liddell

High Is the Moon Tonight

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Labyrinth/Alice's Adventures in Wonderland Crossover

Disclaimer: I do not own either Labyrinth or Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. I love the movie and the book, and I am not making any profit whatsoever from this.

A/N: I want to stress that this is *not* a romance story between Sarah and Jareth. Reluctantly, Jareth is forced into her life once more under some very unusual circumstances, and Sarah is thrust into an entirely new kingdom in the Underground on a quest to save her daughter. Moreover, this is in the horror genre so parts of this will be at times disturbing.

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Chapter 1: Little Alice Liddell

There was a point in life where childhood dreams and fantasy died, and real life began. You went to college, graduated, got a job, got married, and had kids, but sometime in the future there'd come a day where those dreams would want you back. Sarah flipped mindlessly through the pages in one of the many books she was cataloguing for the shop before her shift ended. Her thoughts strayed aimlessly like light little clouds floating around the dusty cramped room in the shop. The light was low, and the sun had set an hour ago; Sarah could see stars twinkling outside the book store's window. She looked up towards the clock in the corner of the room; she'd have to pick up Alice soon.

Tomorrow was Saturday, and there were so many things to do. She'd have to take Alice to get new boots for the coming winter, pick up groceries...Sarah remembered once when Saturday had been a special day- when _they _still visited her.

"Hoggle," Sarah murmured to herself. Where had he gone? She smiled wistfully. Labyrinth was nothing more than a fond memory of the past now. All of her friends from that world visited far into her college years, but life here in the "real" world needed her more. They'd always visited in the night, and she used to wait for them- there in her dorm room by the window, but then things changed- Paul Liddell had entered the picture, and the two had become tangled up in a long-term and in the end of it- unsuccessful relationship.

Sarah flung herself headfirst into reality; she began to miss meetings with dear old Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and the rest to spend time with her college mates and Paul; her companions from the Goblin Kingdom left little trinkets each time they'd come. The woman cherished them, but she simply did not have time for her old friends now. Her studies had grown more rigorous in college, and things had really begun to heat up with Paul. Soon altogether, after a heated argument and many hurt feelings all around, Hoggle and the others had simply stopped coming.

She'd graduated and found herself married, living a peaceful if somewhat dull life in New England, working at a small bookstore in a quiet town with her newborn daughter, Alice. The next six years passed by like a blur, and she and Paul had been happy during all of them. Alice was healthy, happy, and started kindergarten without a hitch. Sarah enjoyed each and every single moment of Alice's early childhood; doing that typical things all mothers do- taking all of those silly little pictures and video of their pride and joy's first steps, first word, and so on. However, her marriage afterward had fallen on the rocks. She and Paul liked each other, but that love they'd once shared cooled off considerably. In the end of it all, they'd come to a mutual agreement; it was best for them to separate, and so Alice lived one week with Paul and his new girlfriend and spent the other week with Sarah. Sarah's life had been completely devoid of magic for the last six years; at first though she'd been completely torn, but now she found that she didn't mind that much.

The little bell went off, signaling another's entrance into the shop. Sarah looked up from her book. It was Florence. She'd come to take over her shift. The peppy girl was still in high school, but Sarah's boss thought she was responsible enough to watch the shop by herself during her shifts.

"Hey, Mrs. Liddell," Florence waved, dragging behind her a backpack full of undoubtedly unfinished homework.

Sarah smiled, "Hello, Florence. I was just finishing up cataloguing these books. Business has been slow today. I imagine you won't get many customers this late in the day. Do you mind putting up these last books for me? I've got to pick up Alice from her friend's place."

"No problem at all, Mrs. Liddell. Tell that cute kid of yours that I said hello." Florence took Sarah's place behind the counter and plopped down in the chair behind it, stacking up the books into different piles by genre.

Sarah laughed, "Of course I will, Florence. You know she really likes you. Probably sees you as some sort of big sister." Sarah picked up her handbag and slung it around her shoulder, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow," she dug in her purse for a moment, looking for her keys. She grabbed them.

"See you later," Florence waved, smiling.

Sarah left the store, and walked over on the dark pavement looking for her car. The familiar green Honda Civic came into view; she hopped in the car and turned the key. Mellow music filled the air. She backed out of the parking lot, swaying slightly to the music. She wanted to call to see if Alice had eaten, but she firmly didn't believe in talking on her cell phone while she was on the road. The roads were quiet tonight, and crunchy leaves blew around in the chill autumn air. Sarah pulled onto a respectable, quiet road. Brick houses and tall trees lined the street; she squinted for the blue awning as she rode down the street. A familiar brilliant blue caught her eye, and she stopped in front of the house. She walked onto the porch, stopping when she'd heard the delighted squeal of playing children. A smiled tugged at her lips; Alice reminded Sarah so much of herself when she was that age. Sarah knocked on the door lightly; a woman in her mid-thirties opened the door.

"Hello, Sarah," the woman greeted.

"Good evening, Katherine," Sarah replied adopting a chatty tone. She liked Katherine; the woman was a little over five years older than she was, but she was one of the few people Sarah knew in town that she could genuinely call a close friend, "I hope Alice has been good."

Katherine laughed, "One of the best behaved children in this town. She and Mary are playing right here in the living room," Katherine turned for a moment calling to the girl, "Alice, your mom is here."

One delighted squeal later, and a bubbly little blonde stood at Katherine's side, "Hi, mommy!"

Sarah knelt, smiling, "Hey, sweetie. Bet you had fun," she stood to say goodbye to Katherine, "Thanks for watching her."

"She wasn't any trouble at all, Sarah. You know how much Mary loves seeing her."

"We'll all to go out to the park sometime next week before the snow comes in," Sarah suggested. She took Alice's hand, "Say goodbye to Mrs. David now, sweetie."

"Bye, Mrs. Davis. Thank you for letting me play with Mary, today," Alice beamed. Katherine smiled and waved the two off. Sarah took the scenic route home that night.

"Mommy, can we get ice cream tomorrow?" Alice asked looking up at the older woman with pleading eyes.

Sarah laughed, "Of course we can, dear. We have to get your feet sized for new boots though tomorrow."

Alice grinned, "Can you tell me a story tonight, too?"

"Yes, which one would you like to hear?" Sarah inquired, her eyes still on the road.

Alice thought for a moment, "How about the one with the princess that fights the Goblin King and saves the day with her friends, Hoggle and Didymus, again?"

Sarah sighed.

"What is it, mommy?"

"Anything but that one tonight- please," Sarah murmured.

Alice was silent for a moment, "Okay. There was this one book that I got from the school library. It's a chapter book though."

"Hmmm…I could read a chapter a night to you from that book then. You know how much I like new stories. What's it called?"

"The librarian said she couldn't really make out the title…something about the cover being burnt."

Sarah thought for a moment. That was odd, who'd try to burn a book, but a new sense of excitement welled up in her stomach, "Well, it's a mystery then, and now we've got to read it, sweetie."

Alice squealed, happily.

Sarah pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. After she and Paul sold the house; they split the funds, and she moved into this building; it was quiet, small, and old. She liked it; the building looked like something out an old storybook. Her flat was two stories up, and had a small overhanging balcony she and Alice had tea parties on during the summer. She turned the key to her flat, and Alice bounced past her.

"Kitty," Alice called looking for the soft creamy kitten, Sarah had gotten Alice a week ago for her birthday. Sarah giggled and closed the door behind her.

"Get ready for bed, Alice," Sarah called to the girl who'd run into her bedroom looking for the kitten.

"Okay, mommy," Alice replied.

Sarah dropped her purse on the couch in the sitting room, and walked into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of lemonade from a pitcher and downed it in one gulp. She rinsed out the glass, and picked up her fallen newspaper she'd dropped earlier, during the morning. She could hear water running faintly from the bathroom down the hall. Alice must've been brushing her teeth. Sarah put the newspaper back on the floor and stretched out on the sofa, working out all of those little knots she'd gotten in her back over the day. She pouted; Sarah hated getting old. Some days, she felt like a frazzled old lady even though she'd only just turned twenty-eight.

She remembered what Karen, her stepmother, told her; Sarah murmured to herself, "You're only as old as you feel."

"Mommy, I'm ready," Alice called from her room. Sarah hopped up and found her daughter safely tucked into bed, holding out a small red book for her. Sarah smiled, took the book, and pulled up a chair to Alice's bedside.

Alice was right; the cover had been damaged. Sarah couldn't make out the title at all. There was a faint cinnamon like smell that hung onto the book. She flipped through the pages. The title page had been missing as well as a few of the first pages. How odd; there were no page numbers either.

Sarah found what she thought had been the beginning and began to read, "A long time ago in a magical land full of wonder and old creatures of magic- talking animals, flowers, and fairies, there lived a queen called the Red Queen by some and the Queen of Hearts by others for her very vibrant scarlet robes, very red hair, and warmhearted manner. The Queen of Hearts longed for a sweet daughter with an even manner to be her princess and heir as she had no children of her own. Each day, she'd look out of the window in the tallest tower of her castle and wished for a daughter. So strongly did she want a little girl to walk through her castle gardens with her learning the ways of a queen, did she forget to tend to her own kingdom, and soon the land fell into anarchy and disarray. The queen cast a magic spell to regain control of her kingdom, and all of the kingdom's subjects fell into a deep sleep. The Queen of Hearts found herself having no one to keep her company at all, and so she created little men from cards. They served her well, but she didn't consider them at all dignified or refined company, and so she sat upon her throne mourning that she was destined to rule over a silent kingdom for all time. She then had a very clever plan, she'd send her card men to find a little girl to be her princess in the human world," Sarah looked up to see how Alice was taking the story. She didn't want to frighten the girl, and was relieved when she noticed that she'd fallen asleep. The tale struck Sarah eerily. It reminded her faintly of the Labyrinth. Sarah marked the page in the book with a small picture she had of Alice, and set it on the girl's nightstand.

She went to the bathroom and stood looking in the mirror, gripping the sides of the sink. A few lines which had not been there during the previous years had shown up on her face. She ran her fingers over them. It was hard to believe that thirteen years could whistle by so quickly- the rest of high school, college, and now she was here in this flat which she shared with her daughter. She didn't have any of her dream jobs, that large house with the large willow out front, nor was she married to that storybook knight in shining armor, but she was happy here, living with her daughter. There wasn't anything Sarah wouldn't do to keep Alice safe and happy.

Sarah splashed a bit of water on her face, washed, brushed her teeth, and went to bed. It took her awhile to get to sleep she tossed and turned in her sleep. She stood in an abysmally grey world, and it was so silent. There weren't even crickets chirping, the stream rushing past her seemed to make no noise as well. Stars ruled this dark, silent world, and the moon was high in the sky looking far larger and fuller, than Sarah had ever seen it. She walked for a distance, calling for anyone to hear her, but stopped in amazement when she realized that she couldn't even hear her own voice. She tried screaming until her throat was hoarse, but still no sound came out. Then she began to fall. The world came apart- the soft grass, the stream, the sky, and stars. All that was left was the moon, and she continued falling further from it…until, she met the floor with a soft thud.

"Smooth, Sarah" the woman berated herself, running her hand through her dark, thick locks; they were sopping wet with a cold sweat. It was very late in the night- near midnight. She whispered, trying to reassure herself, "It was only a dream. Go back to sleep, you silly woman," but first, she wanted to check on Alice. She opened the door to her bedroom door slowly to avoid that annoying squeaky creak, she'd never grown accustomed to and tiptoed silently into the hall. She pushed Alice's door open and peeped in.

Sarah craned her neck to see the familiar rising and falling of the girl's chest as she slept, but her blankets lay still and lifeless. The mother panicked and walked into the girl's room. Her sheets lay disheveled and her bed empty. The red book had fallen on the floor.

"Alice!" Sarah called, her fear-filled voice rang throughout the flat. No one answered. She clasped her hand over her mouth. What was she going to do? Alice was gone. She ran throughout the house looking for the girl, to make sure she hadn't fallen somewhere and was unable to call for her mommy. Sarah returned to the room, fell to her knees, and began to cry.

"No," Sarah wiped her eyes. She couldn't cry. Her little girl had been kidnapped and needed her help. She'd call the police first and then Paul. He had a right to know. They may have been divorced, but the man was an excellent father. She was getting ready to push herself up to do these things until she noticed the book lying before her. It was open, and in the place of Alice's picture sat a playing card, displaying a grinning queen in red robes- The Queen of Hearts. Calling the police would do no good now, Sarah knew it.

"It looks as if you're in quite a conundrum, little Sarah," a low silky voice purred above her.

Sarah turned, allowing her eyes to find his- Jareth, standing high above her looking every bit like the fearsome Goblin King she'd triumphed over thirteen years ago.

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A/N: I suppose you couldn't call this a full-blown crossover. It's mostly set in the world of Labyrinth, but it does drawn on a few elements heavily from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. If you like this story so far, please review.


	2. Drink Me

High Is the Moon Tonight

Disclaimer: I do not own either Labyrinth or Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and I am making no profit from this whatsoever.

A/N: Sorry for the long delay between updates, I definitely promise to guarantee more regular updates from now on.

Chapter 2: Through the Looking Glass

Unchanged. Jareth was completely unchanged from the last time Sarah saw him all those years ago. Mismatched eyes, a mop of flaxen hair, and long elegant robes, the Goblin King, made a sharp contrast against her contemporarily decorated apartment. She eyeing him, silent, didn't share her thoughts; they after all were scattered, disarranged, panicked, and she just sat numbly on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, and he sat across from her in a large armchair.

Sighing, Jareth rose disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water; he handed it to Sarah. "Drink," he implored her. His tone wasn't cruel, and numbly she accepted, unable to refuse, still unable to think.

_Alice, _her mind crooned weakly. The little girl danced throughout her memory, twirling, laughing, and playing…doing all of the things a little girl her age would do. Sarah's hands shook, rattling against the glass. She swallowed a sob and wiped a few tears from her eyes. Then, anger…resolute, burning hatred for the man standing above her, observing her every action took over.

"_Why,"_ She questioned, her tone low, dangerous. She was so easy to read; her shoulders shook, and in a matter of seconds she was up on her feet. The glass shattered against the wall; Sarah hadn't even registered that she'd thrown it, "Why," she demanded once more, her hands entwining themselves in his collar pulling the much taller man closer to her.

Jareth rounded on her, an edge of warning in his reply, "Now Sarah, I understand you're upset, but you'd be wise not to trifle with those who'd aid you," he enveloped her hands in his, pulling them from his shirt.

She balled her hands into fists, shouting, "Why should I believe anything you say, Jareth! I don't have time for childish games. Give me back my daughter!"

"Childish games? Sarah, you're the one acting like a child," his retort silenced her, and his tone fraught with anger, "Always playing, Sarah, with magic you don't understand…from the moment you touched it, you knew that book was no ordinary book."

She began, the crimson little tome appearing in her mind, "But, I-"

"No," He interrupted her, "You'll listen to me now. You're not dealing with me this time.; you're dealing with someone who will kill you if you interfere with her plans. I spared you many of my cruelties and darker spells…don't think for a second that she will do the same. So I suggest you collect yourself quickly and listen, if you want your Alice back. Do you understand?"

Sarah nodded, shocked, taking her seat once more. If it wasn't Jareth who'd taken her Alice…then who had? The card of the Queen of Hearts flashed in her mind.

"No," Sarah whispered.

"Yes," Jareth replied, as if he'd read her thoughts, "The Red Queen…she is a nasty woman to make your enemy."

"But, how?" Sarah replied, "How did she get Alice?"

"Ah, that, little Sarah, is the simple part. She's quite practiced at this. It's a simple spell that begins as a fairytale, a spell that began working the very moment Alice closed her eyes and fell asleep as you read to her and finished itself when you left the room."

Sarah looked away at her feet. It was all her fault once more…always her fault when something went wrong.

"Don't start crying again," Jareth chided, "That's not helping anyone."

A new thought suddenly struck the woman; she looked up, her eyes narrowing, "Why are you helping me…even after everyone else…left me?" Sarah would have never expected Jareth of all people to care about her plight. She'd humiliated him and denied his claim over her, leaving the Labyrinth and never looking back.

Jareth chuckled, "I never said I was helping you without a price. We now have a common enemy, and there is something more that I want from you."

"I don't care, I'll pay any price to have my daughter back," Sarah replied, unyielding, and she refused to regret her statement. Alice was worth any price…even if it meant striking a deal with _him_.

Jareth smiled broadly, frightening her, "Very well. I'm glad we've agreed so quickly, but I will tell you what I want of you…after you have your Alice," he trailed off, and his gaze flicked to her bedclothes, an old grey oversized t-shirt with a fading college logo on it and some athletic shorts, "Ah, perhaps, you should change into something more suitable, you'll be paying a visit to a very interesting land shortly."

Sarah nodded, leaving him in her living room, making the short journey down her hall to her bedroom and pulled up the door behind her.

_Unbound. _Sarah sighed, sliding down to the floor against the carpet, hugging her knees to her chest. She was free to cry here without being judged or hurried.

"Alice please be okay…please, sweetie. Mommy is going to come and rescue you," Sarah sobbed to herself. The statement gave her little comfort, sounding hollow against her bedroom walls. Laughing bitterly, Sarah wiped furiously at her red rimmed eyes, "The bastard's right…crying won't solve anything."

Sarah hauled herself up to her feet on shaky legs, pulled a simple outfit out of the closet, an old pair of jeans and a sweater. She dressed quickly and pulled on a pair of good, sturdy boots, and walked back into the living room.

"I'm ready," she murmured, staring directly into Jareth's eyes.

A familiar sarcasm slipping into his voice, he replied, "There's the old fire I'm used to," and a much more serious side, that Sarah scarcely remembered, overtook him, "You aren't dealing with me now, girl, so listen clearly. Trust nothing you neither see nor hear there. Wonderland is not wondrous, but very deadly, and you'll be thrice as unsafe especially since I'm not coming with you."

"But, but you said you'd help me," Sarah interjected suddenly.

"And I will, but the politics of the Underground are as complicated as the politics of your world. To journey openly with you through her lands would be an act of war," he then strode over to the table between the couch and the armchair and picked up the scarlet little book which had been sitting there all the while, handing it to Sarah, "We'll use the Queen's own magic against her. I lay a spell in this book. Read it often, I will help you through there. Expect an extended stay, Sarah. You'll need both food and water, I've gone to the trouble of procuring both from your kitchen, while you were in your room…you'll also find a few more items of clothing more suited to the Underground, should you need to blend in."

She turned back; her old backpack from college sat on her dining room table. She pulled it onto her shoulders, after placing the book inside.

"Do you understand everything now, Sarah?" Jareth asked.

"I'm ready," she repeated.

"Let us hope so," he replied, weariness creeping into his voice, "And now the last part of this venture," from his sleeve he pulled a little spherical black bottle; a little tag that said "drink me" was attached to the cork.

"Drink this, Sarah," he handed it to her.

Eying the bottle dubiously, Sarah uncorked the bottle and downed the contents. The taste was sharply sour like a bad wine, and she started to comment on it when suddenly the world went black.

Grey, like a world caught between early dawn and morning, a dull mist-filled light invaded Sarah's senses. She blinked and pulled herself to her feet and shook loose soil from her clothes. _So this was Wonderland?,_ she mused, _there really is nothing wonderful about it. _Sarah drank in her surroundings. The world was caught in a breathless eternity. Neither cricket nor bird sounded, and no wind whistled through the high grass nearly at her hip, surrounding her on all sides.

In the distance, she saw a castle on a hill, a marvelous white structure surrounded by high walls and what appeared to be a wild overgrown forest surrounding the hill. _How eerily familiar…once again on the journey to a castle to save someone I love…probably best to check the book, _she thought.

She was midway between reaching for the book when a raspy voice like sandpaper reached her ears and broke the silence, "She gleams like moonlight."

"Yes, living, breathing, moving, and afraid," one voice replied, and then a cacophony of voices filled the air, chattering all at once.

"What is this," Sarah demanded, her voice cutting across the others, "Who's there," she looked all around. She nervously dug for the book, opening the pages. _Please, Jareth,_ she mentally pleaded, loathing herself for wanting his help.

A fine inky scrawl looped elegantly onto the page: _Little Sarah, don't be alarmed. I trust you weren't daft and did remember the Queen's curse upon her land…an enchanted sleep upon her subjects for all eternity until she chooses to dispel it. To sleep forever does not stop one's aging…you are on the Ambrose Plains, and the murmurings you hear are the half-wakeful musings of the dead, still caught in sleep, but her curse is getting weaker, and they are getting stronger. You have nothing to fear from these spirits, but do be careful. Right now, it is wisest for you to get to grounds where you aren't so easily seen. Save the forest for later, there will be plenty of time to get to the castle, go to the hills to the West. You'll need more than wit to battle with the Queen. Until next time. _

The looping scrawl ended with a large J. marking his name, and Sarah closed the book, a sudden chill overtaking her. Spirits, spirits…were talking to her. Logically, it was foolish to feel ill at ease after all she'd seen in Jareth's kingdom. She scanned the sky for the sun to find the West, but there was no sun. Biting her lip, she realized there was only the moon fixed high in the sky overhead, completely motionless. This would be far more difficult, and she'd be breaking the very first rule Jareth told her, but she had no choice.

"Spirits," she murmured, "Could you tell me which way to go to reach the hills in the West?"

"This way," cried one.

"No, not that way," shouted another, "He's a daft one. This way."

Soon, a thousand little voices filled the air, until one, stronger than the others, cut above the rest, "Follow the sound of my voice. I'll lead you right, Miss."

Sighing, Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat. Something told her that this decision wasn't among the cleverest she'd made in quite a long time. She followed the shrill little echo, wading through the high grasses; it'd taken up singing what appeared to be a child's song. She followed the voice for what seemed like an hour until she reached a small clearing in the plain, a burnt-out little cottage being the only thing she saw.

"When the Queen made us sleep," the shrill voice began as if it were sucking in breath to speak, "Mommy was cooking, and I was waiting in the kitchen to eat, but then we fell asleep…I dreamed for a long time, I'm waking up now, but all I want to do is sleep for real."

Sarah cupped her mouth, her face aghast with horror. The shrill little echo was the voice of a child…who'd fallen asleep and then, she couldn't finish the thought. To die so horribly must have been excruciatingly painful. She couldn't imagine such a horrible fate befalling Alice, and it became even more dire to find her quickly.

The child's voice picked up again, "All I remember is the field and the light, Mommy and Daddy went to the light, but I couldn't because Teddy was still inside. I'll give you something really nice that will take you to the hills, if you find Teddy and let me sleep."

Sarah nodded. She couldn't deny the sorrowful, broken voice anything. She made her way inside the ruined cottage. The basic frame of the small house had all but burnt away leaving one standing wall and the stone base of the house exposed to open air. Ages of dirt and dust had collected over the soot and rubble, but usual household items poked out here and there: a rusted metal cooking spoon, the remains of a blackened chair, and in the corner what appeared to be a crude dollhouse surrounded by darkened ash and stone. It was very unlikely that the bear was still intact at all after such a horrid fire, but Sarah had to at least try. She felt she owed the child that much. She started in the corner, digging out handfuls of rubble, chipping her nails, cutting her hands. One handful after another, working her way throughout the cabin until her hand struck a rusted metal frame. She traced the roughened metal. It'd once been the frame of a bed, now hopelessly warped by heat, and she dug around the interior of the frame, the mattress, itself, having long ago burnt or rotted away.

Sarah's hand felt something woven and light; she pulled it from the rubble, and a dirty and burnt but definitely bear-shaped figure greeted her. Bits of stuffing were missing, and a part of its ear was gone, but the bear was surprisingly very well intact. Who'd known how long this cottage lay abandoned…the book had never given a definite date of when the Queen cursed the kingdom.

She strode over collapsed beams and other debris back into the clearing; a wind whistled by her, and she knew the child's spirit was near.

"Teddy," the little voice squealed, "Thank you, thank you," the spirit was fading away now, the voice growing quieter and quieter until it was barely a whisper, "I can sleep, but…before I go…near the stove…Daddy's blue box…magic…from fire…compass."

Then, a gust jostled her clothes as it sailed upward, and she knew the child was gone. Sarah smiled for what felt like the first time in a long time. She entered the house towards the stove which had perpetrated the horrible incident in the first place, and cleared away cobwebs and dust, revealing a brilliantly blue rectangular little box. Time hadn't dampened its color at all, and it was cold to the touch. Sarah half expected the lid to not give way, but it opened with little difficulty, and she gasped, almost not wanting to run her dirtied fingers over the fine glass that composed the child's father's compass. It was surely something magical…something very old and precious, and she was almost afraid to use it, but it had to be done.

Sarah wiped her hands against her jeans, trying to get them somewhat clean, and lifted the delicate little compass from its case and continued on her way, this time properly west towards the hilly region Jareth had told her about. His first word of advice proved to be incorrect. It seemed that were some things that were wondrous and that you could trust about Wonderland, Sarah pondered, thinking of the spirit, and those thoughts soon turned to thoughts of her own Alice. She stopped once, looking back towards the castle on the high hill, and continued on her way.


	3. Hatter

High Is the Moon Tonight

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Disclaimer: I do not own either Labyrinth or Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and I am making no profit from this whatsoever.

A/N: Jareth and Sarah both encounter difficulties as they attempt to help Alice in their own separate ways.

J Luc Pitard: This chapter gives a tiny peek into what's become of Alice so far.

Mahina: Sarah trading her freedom to Jareth wasn't a lapse in her judgement or intellect. It's a question of ability. Jareth is the only person who was willing and able to help her at that point in time in the story; it was a point to stress how ordinary and human she is. She entered the Labyrinth six years ago, inferior to him, and left six years ago only equalling him in cunning not power. She knew perfectly well what she was getting into when she agreed to become subservient to him once more just to have a chance at saving Alice, and nothing is set in stone at this point for her not to eventually gain some leverage over Jareth on her own.

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Chapter 3: Hatter

He'd watched her from the moment she'd been born, watching her grow into a little girl that loved fairytales of a lost time of magic in her world. He'd watched her play games in the little leafy copse a few paces from her childhood home, perched on high, watching her from a distant branch. So far below she'd danced…so full of belief, filling him with so much power. The girl grew into young woman and long after others lost their faith and his interest, she continued to believe, and he grew to love her for that inexhaustible faith. She was Sarah Williams, the only one to ever break his heart, and he was Jareth, the Goblin King, a monarch slowly fading away, becoming a part of the rest of the nothingness that made up the Underground.

Jareth once possessed power far mightier, with servants and subjects more formidable by leaps and bounds than the weakest of the fey, goblins. At first he'd loathed the mocking epithet his peers bestowed him, The Goblin King. He'd been forced to seek the servitude of those unruly, weak creatures, and he hated it more than anything, but as the world turned and mankind abandoned its faith in the old ways and his peers, those one-time mockers too faded…and he lived, still descending in his majesty, until only he and she, the Red Queen remained- her might and glory never fading.

His descent in power reduced him to dreaming like one under _her _curse, alone in his castle at the Labyrinth's center. As the years passed on and on as he slept, even he'd forgotten her name. Jareth could scarcely recall the old days, when both he and she roamed the surface world, keeping to the dominion of their own lands and earthy temples erected unto them. Those were the glorious days, and he loathed what he'd become…a mere echo of his past. Hatefully, he banished each wakeful memory from his mind, and as he faded, as he died, as mankind forgot him, he was then so hopelessly jarred from sleep that he couldn't grasp the new power that invigorated him.

A writer searching for success unearthed his story and put a pen to paper, and he was suddenly alive again. Jareth rose from his throne, wiping away ages of dust, suddenly filled with a great power and a great fear. She'd been slowly devouring his kingdom while he slept. The silent grayness swept over his kingdom, leaving barely more than a stretch of land twenty miles in circumstance.

While his power grew as the writer's novel's popularity swelled, hers remained far stronger, ever mightier, and all the magic Jareth knew could only slow, never halt her. As the popularity of the child's novel, a mere mockery of what had once been man's faith, began to wane, his powers too \ floundered. Jareth's concern faltered and his eyes grew heavy once more, until a belief so strong cut through the lazy thoughts of his foggy mind and made him jump to his feet- Sarah Williams.

She'd believed before she even known his tale, and he had to possess her…to keep her safe so that he could live. Without her belief, he'd surely fade, but years later after all he'd done to nurture her, that belief waned, and one by one after his traumatic defeat at her very hands, his subjects faded. They were nameless goblins…not the stuff of legend like he, and he watched Sarah through her college years in agony, knowing that she was slowly forgetting the Labyrinth, forgetting him. He grew weaker and weaker, and when she gave birth to Alice, and Jareth thought her belief was all but lost, but then Sarah did something that surprised him. She'd begun telling the little girl his story…no, their story, and he was intrigued and more excited than he should have been. Perhaps that was a reason enough for him to help her even after all she'd done to him, refusing all he'd promised her.

Wings beating under the light of moon, he flew swiftly to his castle. A great white owl alit on the sill of an open window and hopped onto the stone floor. Slowly, its neck elongated and the owl threw its wings out wide. Wings became arms, and its talons grew into legs. Feathery tufts lengthened into wild, silken tresses, and Jareth stood in the center of the throne room, frowning.

It was unbearably silent; the grayness of her enchanted pre-dawn had infected his lands likewise, leaving the room cast in a low light. There was no time to dawdle, Jareth set off up a flight of stairs into his personal chambers, veering right into a room crowded with book-lined shelves. In the corner an ornate desk sat undisturbed, a fine powdery layer of dust covering it…the same layer of dust that coated everything in the room. Many years passed since Jareth last set foot in here, but he hadn't come for any of the books. He cast his eyes to something else, a finely crafted silver instrument that one could easily mistake for a globe. Wiping clean the grime on the craft, he placed his hands on either side of the silver sphere, rotating it until he found a little convex spherical crystal lens located at the end where most normal globes would be labeled as North.

"Star of Arcady," he murmured, feeling his fingers tighten against the sphere as his own power seeped through the shining silver, "Show me Alice Liddell."

The clear crystal suddenly took on a vortex of swirling colors, rotating faster than light, and suddenly the vision normalized. The vision descended through fast moving grey clouds, roving over the amber waves of grass on the plain he'd left Sarah on that very morning, through a dark forest, and suddenly halted just as the leafy boughs began to clear. Jareth grimaced…this wasn't right. He knew the child would've been taken to the castle as soon as she'd arrived in Wonderland. He gripped the sphere tighter, straining himself further to focus against the rush of lightheadedness and the pain pounding against his skull, and then he caught a glimpse of _her _castle on the hill and then a hall and…a girl, her little frame shaking against the vast velvet blackness of the hall. She turned ever so slightly in his line of sight. The crystal vibrated rapidly in its frame, the horrid noise of glass as it shattered echoed in his ears. The vision fell apart, and he collapsed, his fingertips suddenly quite warm, wet, and sticky. Jareth wasn't even able to see her face.

He stood, grimacing silently as he began to pull tiny shards of crystal from his hands. _Another failure in defying her_, Jareth scowled. No matter what he did…she always won in the end. There was no opposing _her._ He wondered how Sarah was faring- if she fared better than him. When he first spoke to her through the book, he hadn't told her as much he would have liked; the very spell of travelling from her world to his again and then using another to conceal her arrival in the Queen's lands had taken a lot out of him, and after this failure he wouldn't be able to communicate with her again for many hours.

Jareth staggered over to the desk in the corner of the room, panting slightly, supporting himself on its edge. He lifted one hand from the desk to examine it, seemingly oblivious to bloody print he'd left behind. The Goblin King wasn't at all worried about the superficial damage done to his hands, but with the silver and crystal globe shattered, his eyes in Wonderland were blind.

* * *

Her brisk pace slowed to a sluggish trudge through low shrubbery and thick, gummy peat as Sarah climbed in altitude. She rubbed her arms, noting the sudden chill in the air. She looked down at the delicate, glass compass clasped in her palm; her heading was still correct. Checking the book had been useless…Jareth hadn't written in hours. Sarah stopped and scanned the land surrounding her. Low purple heather spanned out as far as the eye could see, accented here and there by thick woody reeds. There was nothing out of the ordinary, no sign or spark of magic anywhere.

Sighing, Sarah sat on a clear patch of the ground, planning what to do next. Jareth hadn't given her a clear goal or location; he'd only told her to go westward to the hills to find something to fight the Queen. She massaged her temples. Why did he have to be so vague? A clot of dirt burst into the air as she punched the ground in frustration, gritting her teeth as the pain brought her back into reality. She calmed gradually, rationalizing that it did no good to blame him. All she could do was to sit and wait.

It was better for her to wait anyway, and a small whisper at the back of her mind, murmured that it would probably be best _to rest _as well. She hadn't slept for a very long time, and her eyes drooping, Sarah suddenly felt the first waves of exhaustion since coming here. Funny, she didn't even recall feeling remotely fatigued a few moments ago; it was odd how the body felt after all extra adrenaline faded. Leaning backwards, yawning, it was almost as if Sarah could hear a faint singing on the air, one of the most beautiful, calming sounds she'd ever heard- a voice cutting across the hills, a clear and heavenly soprano. Words? There were no words, only an intrinsically beautiful melody, willing her eyes to close, wanting her to sleep, and she sighed, all thoughts of Alice falling to the very back of her mind. Sleeping became all Sarah ever wanted…dreaming sweet, sweet dreams, and the voice assured her that it would continue singing if she slept. It promised that it'd never leave her side, and she more than willingly complied with its one simple request- _sleep_.

Suddenly a biting cold stung her palm, jarring her awake. Sarah gasped, jumping to her feet, but it was so much harder to stay standing as she teetered back and forth on wobbly legs. She gazed longingly at the earth, all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep as the voice had asked her, but she couldn't, the cold in her hand wouldn't allow her. Sarah closed her eyes; she couldn't sleep because…the image of a little girl all wide curious eyes, freckles, and rosy cheeks spun in circles in her mind, catching snowflakes on her tongue. She _wouldn't_ sleep, dreaming to the harmonious aria of that beautiful soprano...because she had to rescue Alice!

Opening her eyes, Sarah inhaled deeply, really listening to the song, and as she listened, it darkened into something deeper and much more sinister, its beauty spoilt. She became acutely aware of the source of stinging cold in her hand- the crystal compass.

"Thank you," she murmured, looking down into her palm. The Queen's spell had almost claimed her too, and she scanned the horizon for the Queen's castle, her cheeks coloring with a mixture of pride and fury. Sarah shouted, her voice carrying like a battle cry on the wind, "You have no power over me!"

As if it were acting in response to her new fiery determination, the compass suddenly glowed, with a radiant golden light. The light centralized into a fixed point on its smooth face and lengthened into a floating arrow. Sarah traced the arrow with her finger; the sudden warmth tickled her skin. She stared forward into the further wilderness where it pointed. Was this the way? In Jareth's kingdom, she'd learned the hard lesson of taking nothing for granted, and, there was much more to this compass than what met the eye. She might as well follow it…Jareth certainly hadn't been helping her. Her feet began to shuffle, one foot in front of another, picking up speed almost automatically.

Sarah following the arrow diligently, never veering from the path it set out for her no matter what obstacle she encountered. Water splashed over her boots as she forwarded through a gully too wide to hop across and too narrow and shallow to pose a true threat. Past the gully, she walked through high reeds, snagging her clothes and heavy backpack here and there until she stopped at a high wall of rock. She licked her lips and studied the massive wall, trying to discern its altitude; it must have been at least forty feet high. The stone was rough to the touch but sheer and smooth enough to guarantee that she'd never be able to climb it. She sighed in hopelessness.

A sudden flickering caught her eye- the arrow of light! She sucked in a breath, cupping her hand over the compass fearful for a moment that little golden light would blink out. Seemingly making up its mind, the light rotated sharply to the left. Sarah smiled; coming this far hadn't proven fruitless after all.

"Is that the way I'm supposed to go?" Sarah murmured to the compass. She turned, walking slowly, one hand trailing against the wall of rock. The arrow flickered and turned once more, this time right. Sarah, so engrossed in following the arrow, nearly tripped into a narrow stone stairwell cut into wall. _Ah, _she mused, _this is the way it wants me to go. _She climbed, higher and higher, hopping over jagged, broken steps mauled by age and the elements.

The wind whistled through the narrow pass, and it was a very animated, lively sort of whistle not too different from an old-timey jig Sarah used to hear whenever they reenacted the colonial days in her town. She swallowed suddenly and paled slightly…it wasn't the wind's whistle echoing through the passage. She bit the corner of her lip. Was it another spirit? She would know in a minute as she neared the top of the stairs.

"Hello," a man called cheerily, holding a cup of tea in one hand and looking at a pocket watch in the other, "You're just in time, Miss. It's six o'clock on the dot, but then again…it's always six here."

"On time?" Sarah repeated, confused. She stumbled backwards, surprised at the sudden sight of another person. Well, she wasn't at all certain if he was human at all or even alive for that matter, but what sat in the chair looked every bit like the caricature of a typical middle-aged Victorian gentleman Sarah had seen in old picture books and period films. He wore a brown suit jacket over a brilliantly red vest and dark navy pants, but what stuck out most unusually of all about his dress was the extraordinarily large black top hat on his head. As he moved so did the hat, almost threatening to fall over his eyes should he veer too far in any direction. Beneath the hat, his hair was rather dark and longish, tapering off at his chin, and she noted he was clean shaven. His bright eyes studied her as she studied him.

He beckoned to Sarah eagerly, "Yes, yes, yes! Take a seat at the table, Miss. All are welcome here," his tone rapidly shifted between low and high, slow and fast, as if he weren't too concerned at all about which words he emphasized and which he didn't. He flashed the woman a toothy grin and gestured to a fine velvety wine-colored sitting chair which had no place at all a dining table.

Sarah hadn't noticed the table at first, but it too was rather unusual, unlike any dining table she'd ever seen; it was a grim, bare stone thing laden with empty dishes of varying sizes and colors bar a full steaming kettle of tea; the teapot, itself, was seemingly fashioned after a mouse. She frowned, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"A seat, Miss, take one. That's it, there, there," he coaxed her on, and she sat, looking once at the compass before complying with his demands. The arrow had faded; she was certain that this was where it wanted her to go, but the only question remaining was why?

"A fine work of crystal you have there, Miss," the man murmured appreciatively, leaning over the table to examine the compass. Sarah shoved it quickly in her pocket.

"Excuse me," she murmured, looking away. She trusted the compass, but she certainly did not trust him.

"No, excuse _me, _Miss," the man apologized quickly. He took an empty cup from the table and offered it to her, "Tea?"

"What?" Sarah replied, looking at the cup in his outstretched hand, "No, no thank you," she waved her hand, "I'm sorry, but I don't even know who you are."

The man continued on unperturbed by her rejection, "It's your loss then, Ma'am. My tea here is the best…invigorates the senses, makes you sharp, and keeps the song at bay," he poured himself another cup and downed it in one gulp.

Sarah exhaled suddenly, "What did you say?"

The man smiled, tipped his hat, and extended a hand, "The name's Hatter."

"Sarah," she replied, supplying her own name, and shook his hand awkwardly, "Pardon me, but what were you saying about the tea?"

"That it's simply the best," he answered her after taking another deep draught.

"What did you mean by keeping the song at bay," she breathed. It was almost as if he were skirting around the issue.

His face crumpled into a small sad smile, "Ah, yes, that…the song. You've…erm…heard it, I presume?"

Sarah nodded, leaning over eager to hear him go on.

"It's Her Royal Majesty's song, it makes you want to sleep," as Hatter spoke his voice grew quieter and graver until it was barely above a craggy whisper, and the jovial light in his eyes she'd seen earlier had all but died, "And, you see the tea drowns out the song but at a price."

"A price?" Sarah repeated, quirking a quizzical brow.

"Yes," Hatter replied, "It makes one…how should I put this? It makes one forget."

"Forget?" Sarah chimed in again, piecing together everything he said slowly.

"Yes, I'm awake, but I've forgotten everything…even my real name," he stopped abruptly and looked away; his cheeks colored with shame.

"You don't remember anything?" Sarah murmured sadly. It must've have been tragic to lose one's identity.

"I remember odd bits and pieces here and there," Hatter replied, glanced over to Sarah, and then stared pensively into his cup, "I remember how to brew and make certain things though I haven't the foggiest why. I remember Her Royal Majesty…think I may have once been in her service," and then with voice darkened with a hate so raw that it frightened Sarah, "But, _no longer_. I know the dreaming is a bad thing, Miss Sarah…I've seen the things it's done, the people it's killed, and I don't know how or why but I remember finding myself here with enough tea and other odds and ends that allowed me to live for many years unaffected, but soon I too will sleep and _dream_. I'm nearing the end of my supply, now," and he took a deep sip once more and laughed bitterly. They were both silent. Sarah was unsure of how to react or what to say. She absorbed everything Hatter told her and thought about it, but he began to speak again, jostling her from her thoughts, "Answer me this, Miss Sarah. Why aren't you dreaming like the others?" and he asked much more lowly, "Just what are you?"

"I don't know," Sarah answered honestly, though she had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the glass compass in her pocket, and then she took a breath, hoping that what she was about to say was for the best, "It doesn't matter who I am, Hatter; I'm trying to stop the Queen. I know the dreaming is wrong too, and I need help."

Hatter sputtered over his tea and stared over his cup as if she'd grown another head, "Defy the Queen? It's unheard of! And," his face was stretched by that impossibly wide toothy grin again, "And, I like it!"

He hopped to his feet, and set off quickly, gesturing for her to follow.

"Where are we going ?" Sarah called after him almost running to match his pace.

"To my home," Hatter called over his shoulder, "I have something that may just be of use to us!"

* * *

A/N: And that concludes this chapter. Please review! :)


	4. The Princess and the Wall

High Is the Moon Tonight

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own either Labyrinth or Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and I am making no profit from this whatsoever.

A/N: First off, I want to save thanks for the reviews. Things are really starting to heat up in this chapter, and some of Wonderland's mysteries are beginning to unravel just a bit. The next chapter will probably be up sometime around the end of next week.

* * *

Chapter 4: The Princess and the Wall

For all of Lorina's fine skirts and strings of pearls and diamonds strung around her neck she had the ordinary appearance of a very frightened young woman, hiding underneath the shadowy chill of foliage above, tangling in her rust colored hair. She was the Princess of Wonderland up until a very few short hours ago. Thorns and brambles dug into her hands with a renewed viciousness almost tempting her to scream but she dare not…could not. Her throat was too dry, too constricted to scream, and she held her breath as she heard the Queen's foot soldiers pass by. They were searching for her…because today was the day of her execution, the day she would be taken to the chopping block like the Princess before her, like every princess of Wonderland that reached adulthood, but in her heart, Lorina never submitted to the Queen's lies, and she knew this day would be different for her than the others. She would survive.

As the bulk of the soldiers passed, Lorina tore free from her dark hiding place, ripping her skirts as she made for the edge of the garden. If she reached the forest, she knew the card soldiers wouldn't dare chase her. The forest was the haven of warped dreams, a collection of land's darkest thoughts and would be too much of a danger for them to even bother. Lorina panted slightly, she'd been running and hiding all day; she propped herself up on the sword she'd been clinging to tightly in her left hand- the fabled Vorpal Blade, a sword that could cut through anything in a single slice. She considered herself lucky to have come across it as she dug through the Queen's treasuries searching for something to aid her escape, but there was no time for dallying. She set off at a frantic pace, her concentration too focused on survival to allow her to fall as she ran.

A bell rang in the distance. Someone had spotted her and sounded the alarm; she didn't have to look back to know that it was one of the card soldiers up on the battlements that'd seen her. The sound of running feet joined hers from all around as she tore past more of the Queen's favored roses into the wilder regions of the garden. Her pursuers would have to tread more carefully here. She slowed her pace to a brisk walk more concerned about the garden's predatory flora than the guards behind her. It was said of the wild regions in the gardens that the few who entered, actually came back out, and then there was a sudden tug at her feet dragging her down towards a hedge across from her. She cried into the open air, left breathless and thoughtless for a moment before thinking to slice at the vine wrapped around her ankle. Her sword whistled through the air, and the vine came off cleanly, still wriggling like a fish out of water as it fell from her foot. More vines that were poised to strike quickly retreated into the hedges, knowing better than to attempt that again.

Sudden yells throughout the garden told her that her pursuers hadn't been so lucky battling the vicious garden.

"This has gone on long enough, Lorina," a high familiar bellow echoed through the garden, and suddenly everything went still as her blood ran cold. The Queen! The Red Queen had come herself to see to Lorina's execution…outraged that someone dare defy her, the deposed Princess often wondered in the past if anyone had ever tried. Then the monarch's tone softened into the motherly tone she'd heard for most of her life, "Now, my dear child, come back. It was awfully naughty of you, Lorina, to go running off like that."

"Why should I listen to you? You just want my head," Lorina shouted back, breaking into her run towards the forest. She was so close now, so achingly close that she could spot the edge where the forest and garden met.

"After her! After her," the Queen demanded, "Don't mind the garden you fools! I've silenced it for the time being," if Lorina could see her adoptive mother's face right now she could imagine that it was transfigured into something quite ugly, but they were too late. One foot padded onto the mossy earth and then another; Lorina made it, and the garden, the courtyard, and the castle seemed another world away. It was almost true because when you entered this forest, you never knew quite where you'd land. She glanced back, nothing but blackness stared back at her, a black as deep and velvety as pitch, and Lorina knew that at least for the moment she was safe.

* * *

Hatter hadn't walked more than a few paces towards the stairway cut into the stone wall before pausing and stroking his chin. Sarah watched him confused and almost slightly irritated. She knew that tea made him forgetful, but if he had forgotten where his home was then how was that helping her? Each minute she dawdled here, the more time she lost. He paced along the wall, making a little noise as he stopped in one location that seemed ordinarily like every other space along the wall.

He rubbed his chin for a few moments more, thinking, and just when Sarah was about to scream in frustration, he called to her, "Over here, Sarah."

"Now what?" she murmured to herself, walking to stand over at his side.

He knocked at the wall- one tap and then another in the same location, and the stone fell away as if it were nothing more than a curtain revealing a dark doorway.

"And," he waved her in, "This is my home."

She stared in numb amazement for a moment, before managing to get out, "It's an illusion," she ran her against the stone at either side of the door, and it felt solid and certain under her hands, rough and slightly sandy like stone should, but then there was the perfect doorway leading inside to a space wider than the wall itself.

"Nothing is ever what it seems in Wonderland," he replied knowingly. Sarah quirked a brow; his statement set her thinking about Jareth again. Why hadn't he written to her yet…was this his plan all along? Was he seeking his revenge by leaving her here? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Nothing made sense now, and it was better to just take everything in stride…step by step. She began by taking her first step inside the narrow passageway, her feet padding onto stone. She released the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. What was she expecting…to fall into a bottomless pit? She bit her lower lip and gingerly took a few more steps inside. Hatter entered in behind her, securing the illusion in place once more.

As he worked, and as she turned to watch him, "It's a shame, Miss Sarah," he began as he traced his fingers around the door's frame, "That there's even a need for such things…one thing I do remember is that Wonderland used to be quite lovely," she could vaguely make out his fuzzy outline tracing the wall with his hand, working with some contraption that flooded the room with a soft light; she couldn't locate the luminous source, but how it worked was neither here nor there. Sarah gasped audibly looking down. If she'd taken another step further, she would've fallen down a long spiraling flight of stairs, "After you then," he said.

Sarah nodded and descended deeper into his home. It had all of those homey, lived in accents that a home should but for all intents and purposes, Hatter's home was a cave. High, natural subterranean walls encrusted with precious stones and gems glittered against the light in the cave. Everything seemed centralized in this one room: study room, living room, and a kitchen; Sarah spotted two more narrow corridors perhaps leading off to his bedroom and other rooms. His furniture was so familiar yet foreign…bits and pieces of scrap metal made up his kitchen, the crude material shaped into counters and dishes. An old iron stove sat in one corner, a pile of wood next to it, and Sarah's eyes followed its large pipe into the black oblivion which led to the high cavern's distant ceiling. Hatter had a single sofa which was decidedly tattered, and she made her way to collapsing on the squishy little thing, studying the rest of the cave as Hatter wandered off to a corner of the cavern

"It's alright…if you want to sleep here for a moment, Sarah," Hatter murmured. A kettle's shrill whistle echoed through the cave, and Sarah decided that he must be making tea then though the scent this time wasn't so foreign. He chattered on, "The Queen's song doesn't penetrate beneath Wonderland's surface."

Sarah froze up for a moment, completely indecisive. She was many things at the moment, exhausted, dirty, and hungry; all of the events of the day had finally caught up with her, and she turned, really looking at Hatter. He hadn't paid her any attention since he'd last spoken, busy with his tea and food. As she studied him, he struck her as someone trustworthy albeit a little insane, and she sighed allowing her body to relax. She'd sleep for just a few minutes- no more, no less.

* * *

Minutes stretched into hours…years seemingly passed as Sarah slept. Out of the corner of her eye she could register figures dancing. They were ghastly shapes with limbs longer than any man could possess and faces distorted, grimacing masses of flesh. Where there should have been eyes only sat wide, devouring black holes. The worst of all was that these monsters had been as human as her at one time, and she didn't know how she knew, but she instinctively did. As she lay there, Sarah had no other desire but to stand and start running, as fast and as far away as she could, but her limbs were too heavy to move, and as they danced closer, spiraling in and out caught up in an elegant ballet, the beasts pirouetted through the air landing at her side. She wasn't certain if she screamed when she really saw them in their full glory. They wore royal dresses…of varying patterns all, in red and white, but they were hopelessly soiled, filthy, smelling of soil and decay. Holes were eaten through the fabric…holes that also ate through flesh. One grinned, leering down at Sarah, hovering just above her head, the thing's dirty blonde hair fell in her face, making her want to gag as she inhaled the putrid odor.

"Mama," the monster crooned, "Why'd you leave me here?"

As it leaned closer, one maggoty hand stretched outward ghosted Sarah's cheeks lightly, affectionately, and then dug in tearing at flesh, and Sarah screamed trying to pull away. No, no that thing wasn't Alice. The monster laughed along with the others behind her, their voices rasping and high, a maggot's choir echoing up from their rotting diaphragms.

Sarah woke with a start, grasping the edges of Hatter's lumpy couch. She swiped her sweaty dark locks from her eyes, blinking against the cavern's diffuse light as her vision normalized.

"It was only a dream," Sarah whispered. She stood; the lights in the cavern were dimmer than before and Hatter was missing. She called out for him, "Hatter!"

Her voice carried, echoing off into the cavern's distant corridors.

"Coming," he called back. She sighed, relieved but still shaken by the dream…perhaps it was time to consult the book to see if Jareth had written to her. She dug into her backpack which sat still where she'd dropped it, untouched. A hand fell on her shoulder, and she gave a little squeak, jumping. It was only Hatter.

"Don't scare me like that," Sarah berated him.

He bowed lightly, "My apologies," and his eyes narrowed keenly, "What is that you have there?"

Sarah bit the corner of her lip, wondering how much she should tell him. He hadn't given her reason to distrust him yet, and if they were going to be allies, she might as well confide in him. She held the book before him, "You see, I have this friend." Friend, indeed…Sarah balked at having addressed Jareth as such. She continued, "Well, more of an acquaintance that is like a magician…he sent me here to fight against the Queen. He couldn't come here himself…it would've started a war or something. I don't completely understand, myself, but through this book is how we talk."

"How curious," Hatter seized the book from her grasp and began flipping through the pages.

"Hey!" Sarah made a grab for the book but failed in retrieving it.

"I can't quite remember, but I believe I've seen such a device before though it wasn't in the form of a book," his words made her pause.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean, indeed," he mused, shaking his head, "This is a relic of magic much like your compass. Its form is an illusion, but its purpose is not."

Sarah checked her pockets suddenly for the compass given Hatter's knack for grabbing and studying things that did not belong to him and was relieved to find it still there.

"How did you know about the compass?" she accepted the book back from him and looked up into his eyes, imploringly.

"I saw it up there…back on the surface when you sat at my table. It seems I have an eye for such things. I must wonder if I'm a magician myself…or an engineer at least," he sighed and then gave the book another looking over, "It would seem that the link of magic in the book only works between you and your magician. Its pages were blank to me."

Sarah flipped through the pages, "Well, they're blank for me too…except for one." _Why haven't you written?_ She thrust the book back into her backpack and looked up to Hatter, "Well then, you said you'd show me something that could help us."

"Yes," his eyes lit up, "I did say that, didn't I? Follow me then," he led her from the main cavern down a long shaft in the cave. Green, glowing moss lit the both of them like ghosts, their shadows bleeding into the cavern's darkness. As they walked, Sarah couldn't help but think about the dream. She nearly bumped into Hatter when he stopped abruptly as he worked with the lock of a rough metal door, producing a ring of keys from his coat pocket.

"And here we are," he bade her in. Sarah gasped. The little room was marvelous. Beakers and tubes glowed furiously with neon colored liquids which shot across the room along the wall. A whistle tooted here or there, and little metal contraptions skittered along the floor fashioned after little animals.

"What is all of this?" Sarah asked breathlessly.

He shrugged, "Flights of fancy…I don't know. Things I've built over the years…it could be a side effect of the tea or missing memories of my life from before the dreaming bleeding through. Half of these trinkets are useless toys, but some of these things do seem to have a more specific, more useful purpose. It's all a matter of finding just the right toy," Hatter grinned down at her.

_Had Jareth known about Hatter? _Perhaps he meant for her to find him in the hills_, _but still it troubled her that he hadn't written. It'd easily been over a day since she'd come here. Had something happened to him?

"Miss Sarah," Hatter called to her, rattling her from her thoughts.

"Sarah," she corrected, "Just Sarah, Hatter. If we're going to work together, I'd like us to be more familiar with each other."

He nodded, "Perfectly understandable, Sarah. Come over here," she did as he asked and looked down at what he had cradled in his palm.

"That," her breath hitched, "That looks like my compass."

"It does," he replied, "But look more closely."

"Why…it's a pocket barometer," Sarah said, leaning closer, "But, I don't understand. How will this help me? What good is being able to predict the weather going to do me?"

Hatter laughed, "Predicting the weather!? That's amusing, Sarah. Barometers _create_ the weather…a very dangerous power. The Queen had most of them destroyed, and this is one of the last…I can't say if it's one of my creations. I found it on me after I came here."

Sarah frowned, thinking. She still wasn't quite following him. She nodded slowly, taking it all in. There was certainly more to her compass than what met the eye…perhaps there was more to this barometer too.

"How does it work?" Sarah's voice cut through the sudden silence.

Hatter's face flushed, "Erm, that is to say…I've forgotten."

She blanched, "You forgot!"

He frowned, "That doesn't mean that I won't remember. Sometimes snatches of things come to me, and I was clever enough to write them down."

"Do you have anything written about the barometer?"

He paced towards are desk in the center of the room, opening drawers fishing for and finding several yellowed notebooks, "Yes, yes I have."

"Great!" Sarah exclaimed, "We have a lot of reading to do then."

* * *

The silence in the castle's library was deafening…he hadn't rested for hours. He refused to rest; he wouldn't be completely blind to what happened in Wonderland. Jareth had pulled every book from the shelf on fixing the crystal sphere and on Wonderland's history and geography. He'd had his subjects write them long ago when they were more intelligent and civilized than the goblins they'd degenerated into. There was a time when his kingdom had flourished and knowledge and beauty were appreciated. He'd drawn up a crude map, one that he would send Sarah in his next message to her.

In his shortsightedness, Jareth had sent her off without a proper heading; he raked a hand through his hair, tugging at it. Such stupid mistakes would doom them both, but he'd felt what he felt through the crystal…a great power emanating from the West, a power that wasn't the Queen's or under anyone else's control. It was such a pity Sarah didn't have a sense for such things.

Satisfied with his map, he turned away back to his reading. Though the Queen by far was the undoubtedly the most talented with magic, losing very little of her power from the old days, it would seem that there were a few in her kingdom that could make a similar boast. His eyes fell on the portrait of a grinning boy with fiery catlike violet eyes and dark hair. _Lord Cheshire. _He'd quite literally disappeared in the middle of the courtyard in the Queen's castle, a week before the Queen, herself, went mad.

Jareth remembered meeting him only briefly…in the past. He recalled him being a trickster spirit, but he wasn't above helping others when it served his interests. It'd be nigh impossible trying to find him now, if he hadn't already faded away. He scowled darkly. Someone had to still be awake in Wonderland…and though he loathed admitting it, he needed help. Sarah was after all only human- a human caught up in a battle of fading myths and gods.

_Lord Cheshire_. He folded the corner of the page, promising to return to it and looked over to the book on mending the sphere. The device hadn't been of his craft; he recalled one of his servants making it. As he read, he became more and more displeased; the ingredients making a new crystal of that caliber weren't exactly in high supply on the surface these days.

Jareth read aloud to himself, committing the items to memory, "The eye of a daeva for sight that extends beyond what one can see before the physical, the hair of a unicorn…a binding component, I see, a diamond bathed in moonlight to cut between the veil between worlds, and a diamond that is black to serve as a conduit for the sphere's magic."

Jareth sighed remembering a time when he hadn't needed such a trinket to see beyond his domain. He could do nothing just yet, he'd have to stay and wait, regain his strength so that he could write to Sarah, and then he'd be off. At the hour that should have been dawn, the castle still sat dark, but Jareth madly hoped, no he knew that if not today or even tomorrow, but soon enough the darkness that haunted his land of late would abate, and more than he'd like to admit this duty rested almost solely upon little human woman's shoulders.


End file.
